


Broken Ankle & Gunshot

by bellafarella



Series: 11 AU's for my boo's [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Bickering, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Ian, Broken Bones, Challenge - Fic!February, Explicit Language, Fic!February, Flirting, Gunshot Wounds, Hospital Roommates, Hospitalization, M/M, Mention of blood, Mentions of Violence, Roommates, not edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 16:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellafarella/pseuds/bellafarella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re in the hospital bed next to me and we fight over what to watch on the shared TV au</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Ankle & Gunshot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BekkaChaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BekkaChaos/gifts).



> This next one is for Beks. You are such a cutie and I love getting your snaps! We need to talk more often but our timezones are very fucked up seeing that you are 16 hours ahead of me hahah. I adore you though! And I'm so glad we get to talk sometimes, and I love your writing!! I hope you enjoy this fic! :D <3 
> 
> P.s. this got long and I didn't expect that at all hahah + another unoriginal title :p  
> Also, thank you Amanda (teamwinchesterbros) for helping me (again) with finding what to give them for them to be in the hospital :p <3

Found this au [here ](http://broomstiks.tumblr.com/post/101617073705/some-au-ideas-that-have-been-floating-around-my)

* * *

 

Ian was rushed to the emergency room by his older brother, Lip, when he shattered his ankle on his morning run. 

 

He goes to the baseball field every morning, before the sun rises, to run laps and run up and down the bleachers. On this particular morning he tripped going down the bleachers and fell all the way down. When he hit the bottom he got an intense, sharp pain run up his ankle and leg. He tried getting up but it hurt so much. He called Lip since he was at the house with Amanda’s car (what he used to come down to visit them that weekend). 

 

When they got to the ER, Lip helped Ian sit down before going to let them know what happened. The ER wasn’t super busy so they didn’t have to wait too long before getting a room. 

 

The nurse came over with a wheel chair and Lip helped Ian to sit on it. They brought him over to the room and helped him lay on the bed. The other side of the room was empty.

 

Ian lay there in pain with Lip sitting in the chair next to his bed as they waited on the doctor. The room was a regular hospital room. It has two beds with a divider in the middle with sheets that go around the whole bed, for both, a chair on each side of the room, and a TV up on the wall in the middle of the room in between both beds.

 

 

They were still waiting when nurses were rushing someone past their room on a stretcher. Nurses and a doctor were yelling all these medical terms and Ian could see was blood. They had stopped the stretcher outside of their room. Ian saw a young man on the stretcher with blood all over his face, his hands, and a huge amount on his stomach. 

 

“Gun shot wound. Stomach,” A nurse said finally over everyone else.

 

“Any vital organs hit?” The doctor asked.

 

“Not sure. Doesn’t seem like it though,” The same nurse answered. 

 

“Get him into surgery,” The doctor said as they rushed the man somewhere. 

 

 

“Jesus,” Lip said after they were gone.

 

“Yeah,” Ian agreed.

 

 

A few moments later the doctor who was just outside their door with the gunshot victim came in.

 

“Ian Gallagher,” He said.

 

“Yeah,” Ian said from where he sat on the bed, leg outstretched. 

 

“I’m Doctor Emerson, says here you broke your ankle,” The doctor said.

 

“Yeah, I mean, I think so. I’ve sprained it before and it definitely doesn’t feel like that,” Ian explained.

 

“Let’s take a look,” Doctor Emerson said. 

 

The doctor gently touched Ian’s ankle and Ian winced. 

 

“Okay, it doesn’t seem sprained, as you said but we’ll take some x-rays to make sure you,” Doctor Emerson said. 

 

Before the doctor could leave Ian asked, “Is that guy going to be okay? The gunshot victim.”

 

“He’s in surgery now, he’s got one of our best surgeons. He should be just fine,” Doctor Emerson said. Ian nodded and soon he was on his way.

 

 

 

A couple hours later, Doctor Emerson was in the room with the x-rays and explaining to Ian that he shattered his ankle in four spots, and that he needed surgery. The surgery wouldn’t take long and it was a standard procedure. However, we would need to stay for about two weeks maximum, since they would be putting metal in his ankle to hold it together. 

 

They scheduled his surgery for later that afternoon, at three pm, and it was now one pm. 

 

 

 

Ian woke up after his surgery back in his hospital bed. He turned his head to the right and saw that the other bed was concealed, someone must be in there. 

 

“Hey,” Fiona said softly from his left. 

 

He turned his head to see Fiona sitting in the chair next to his bed. She was the only one there.

 

“Hey,” Ian croaked out. 

 

“Thirsty?” Fiona asked. 

 

Ian nodded and she handed him a glass of water. He took a long sip and asked, “What are you doing here?”

 

“Wasn’t going to let you wake up to no one here. Lip called when he brought you here, he said that he had it covered and to not leave work. I came as soon as I finished but you were still in surgery. I told Lip to leave and that I’d stay till you were up,” Fiona explained with a hand on his arm. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah, I guess. Still feel a little foggy from them putting me under,” Ian said.

 

“Your doctor said you’ll be fine but they gotta keep you a couple weeks max to make sure you’re good. You can’t really walk yet, not for a few days at least,” Fiona said carefully.

 

Ian groaned and ran a hand down his face, trying to not pull out the IV’s in his arm.

 

“You got a roommate,” Fiona said nodding toward the closed curtains of the bed next to his.

 

“Who is it?” Ian asked.

 

Fiona shook her head, “Don’t know, he was already in there with the curtains closed when I got here. Gunshot victim you guys saw earlier apparently. That’s what Lip said anyway. He didn’t get a look at him though.”

 

“Is he okay? He looked to be in bad shape when we saw him?” Ian asked.

 

Fiona shrugged, “I guess so, I don’t know.” Ian nodded.

 

“You hungry or anything?” Fiona asked.

 

“I’m okay. What time is it?” Ian asked.

 

“Uh,” Fiona said looking at her phone, “Eight. Visiting hours end in half an hour.”

 

Ian nodded and Fiona said, “I didn’t know what you wanted from home but I brought your meds, pillow, and your book that was on your desk. If there’s anything you need tell me so I can bring it.”

 

Ian smiled at his sister and took her hand. “Thank you. My phone?”

 

“It’s charging,” Fiona said nodding to the little bedside table next to her. “I asked the doctor and he said you can still take your pills every morning and they won’t interfere with your pain meds.” Ian nodded. 

 

They sat together and she told him about her day before she had to leave. She said Lip would bring the kids tomorrow to see him, as she had work but said she’d come back after work. 

 

 

Ian checked his phone and flipped through his Facebook and all that before putting it back down and trying to sleep more.

 

“How’s your ankle?” He heard from his right, the guy in the next bed.

 

“Kinda hurts, but it’s better than before,” Ian said back.

 

“They’ll give you meds if you push on that little button on your bedpost,” The guy said.

 

“Thanks,” Ian said. When the guy didn’t answer he asked, “How are you doing?”

 

“I feel like shit but the meds help, man, trust me,” The guy said with a small chuckle.

 

After a moment Ian asked, “What happened?” When the guy didn’t respond he figured he didn’t wanna talk about it, or that he fell asleep, so he let it go. He’d ask him when he could see him. 

 

 

 

The next morning Ian woke up to the sun blinding him. He blinked his eyes open and saw that the curtain around the bed next to him was now open.

 

The guy in the bed next to him was starring out the window. Ian could only see half of his face but what he saw was a bunch of cuts that were trying to heal and dark hair that looked matted. He looked down and saw he didn’t have any other damages that needed a cast.

 

“Morning,” The guy said when he saw Ian starring. 

 

“Morning,” Ian said back. Now that he could see his face fully he said, “Do I know you?” 

 

“Should. We had little league together, I live like two streets over,” The guy said back. “Milkovich.”

 

“Holy shit, Mickey Milkovich,” Ian said it all clicking in his mind. He thought the guy looked sort of familiar but once he saw those blue eyes. 

 

“One and only,” Mickey said with a small chuckle before wincing, “Fucking shit.”

 

“Broken ribs?” Ian asked.

 

“Yeah, a few cracked,” Mickey said, “Hurts like a bitch. They won’t give me more pain meds yet, assholes.”

 

“What happened?” Ian asked. 

 

Before Mickey could answer a nurse walked in and came over to check on Ian. She gave him his pain meds and he took them before taking his other meds. She went over to Mickey and he told her to give him more fucking pain meds and she finally did. A few moments later they were bringing them breakfast.

 

Mickey turned the TV on and flipped through the channels before it landing on some stupid Maury Pauvich, Judge Judy bullshit. Ian let it go and they ate their breakfast watching shit TV.

 

When they finished and they took their stuff away Lip, Debbie, Carl, and Liam were walking into the room.

 

“Hey, guys,” Ian said upon seeing them.

 

“Ian, you’re okay!” Debbie said going to the bed and hugging Ian.

 

“Easy, Debs! He’s got IVs and shit,” Lip said. 

 

“I’m okay, just hurts. Can’t walk, gotta fucking piss in a tube,” Ian said annoyed.

 

“Awesome,” Carl said. Lip pushed his head slightly and laughed at him.

 

“Holy shit, Mickey Milkovich?” Lip asked looking to the next bed.

 

“Gallaghers,” Mickey said.

 

“You’re the gunshot victim? Not really a victim I bet,” Lip said, snarky as ever.

 

“Jesus, Lip. He got fucking shot in the stomach, be nice,” Ian said.

 

“What even happened to you?” Lip asked Mickey.

 

“Deal gone bad,” Mickey said looking back to the TV. Ian looked at him with furrowed brows. For some reason he didn’t believe him. He knew the Milkovich’s dealt drugs and it could easily be true but the way Mickey shrugged it off and ignored Lip’s snarky comments made him believe something else happened.

 

 

They stayed until mid afternoon and then it was just Ian and Mickey again. 

 

“You Gallaghers sure are noisy,” Mickey said when they were gone.

 

“Sorry about that,” Ian apologized.

 

“S’alright, they’re just seeing if you’re okay,” Mickey dismissed him.

 

“What about Mandy or your brothers? They come to see you?” Ian asked.

 

“Mandy lives in Indiana, and my piece of shit brothers don’t know cause I didn’t have anyone call them. Not that they’d be useful or anything,” Mickey said.

 

“Your dad?” Ian asked even though it was a long shot. He knew Terry Milkovich was a horrible person and couldn’t give two shits about anybody but himself.

 

“Especially not my dad. Wouldn’t want him to know I got fag bashed in the fucking day time,” Mickey said.

 

“Fag bashed?” Ian asked shocked, “You’re gay?”

 

“Say a word and I’ll cut your fuckin’ tongue out, you know, when I can move again,” Mickey said, trying not to laugh to not disturb his broken ribs.

 

“I wouldn’t,” Ian said. 

 

“I know,” Mickey gave him a small smile.

 

“So how’d it happen? If you don’t mind telling me…” Ian asked.

 

“Went to the abandoned building for a drug deal but they saw it was me and heard some rumours apparently so they kicked me down and beat my face pretty good. Broke a couple ribs while shouting fag and all that. They took the drugs and money I had. My idiot mistake was trying to get back up and fight back. That’s when they shot me in the stomach,” Mickey explained. 

 

“Jesus Christ,” Ian muttered.

 

“If someone hadn’t been jogging by when they heard the gunshot then I probably would have bled to death. They called 911 and here I am,” Mickey said. 

 

“How’s your stomach now?” Ian asked.

 

“Didn’t hit anything important apparently so I’ll be fine. I gotta be here two weeks, observation or some shit,” Mickey said waving his hand. He picked the remote back up and flipped through the channels.

 

“Cops come talk to you yet?” Ian asked a moment later.

 

“Not yet, probably will today though,” Mickey asked.

 

 

Later that day, as Mickey said, the cops came and took his statement. They didn’t charge him with anything. Mickey told them he got mugged and they shot him when he tried to fight back. 

 

Ian and Mickey have been getting along so far but Ian was annoyed at Mickey’s TV choices. They had to spend two weeks together in this room and Mickey kept switching channels on the TV and never really picking anything to watch. When he did, it was always something so shitty. 

 

Ian decided to let it go for today and he drifted off to sleep after Fiona left when visiting hours ended.

 

 

 

The next day went about the same as the previous one. Ian woke up to the sun streaming into the room but this time Mickey was still asleep. Ian buzzed for the nurse and asked her for some water. She brought him some with his pain meds and he took them with his own meds. At this point Mickey was now awake.

 

“What are those other pills you taking with the pain meds?” Mickey asked.

 

“Good morning to you too,” Ian teased.

 

“Yeah, yeah, morning,” Mickey said turning the TV on.

 

“Lithium,” Ian said. He tapped his finger against his forehead, “For my messed up mind.”

 

“Mood stabilizer?” Mickey asked, “For what?” 

 

“Bipolar disorder,” Ian said.

 

“The fuck is that?” Mickey asked confused.

 

Ian chuckled and said, “It’s manic depression, Mickey.”

 

“You’re depressed?” Mickey asked concerned.

 

“No, I’m on meds,” Ian smiled, “If I weren’t on them than yeah I would be. It’s highs followed by lows, over and over again.”

 

“So the lithium keeps you balanced?” Mickey asked, trying to get it right.

 

“Exactly,” Ian said.

 

“Not so lucky, huh Gallagher?” Mickey asked with a smirk.

 

“Not really, no,” Ian laughed, “Dear old mom passed this special gene down to only me.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, as long as your on meds you’ll be okay, right?” Mickey asked. Ian nodded.

 

“Then you’re not fucked up, you’ll be fine. Just like that ankle of yours,” Mickey smiled.

 

Ian smiled back. This was the first time he told someone about his disorder and them not treating him like he was broken, like he wasn’t normal. 

 

 

Around lunch time Ian couldn’t take Mickey controlling the TV.

 

“Can you put something better on?” Ian asked.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this not interesting you, princess?” Mickey teased.

 

“Fuck off. Why do you even care who the father is?! This shit is always the fucking same,” Ian said annoyed. 

 

“There’s fuck all on, Gallagher. What else are we going to watch?” Mickey asked.

 

“Pass me the controller and I’ll find something better than this shit, guaranteed,” Ian challenged.

 

“No fucking way, I don’t know what you’re into,” Mickey said.

 

“Definitely better taste than you, that’s for damn sure,” Ian shot back.

 

“Too fucking bad,” Mickey said.

 

 

 

This kept on for the next few days. The nurses called them an old married couple cause every time they would come in they were bickering. If it wasn’t about who got to control the TV, it was what they were watching, or how loud or low it was. 

 

 

 

By the end of that first week, Ian was able to start walking again. He could barely do it but he was trying with the help of one of the male nurses. He would come in and help him up and hold him as he tried to walk on it. The end of the week, Ian made progress but it still hurt too damn much to actually walk completely on it. Hopefully by the end of next week he would be good to go, and back home.

 

Mickey was doing better as well, his face cleared up of most of it’s scars, his stomach felt a bit better, but his ribs would still be cracked for a few more weeks.

 

 

They also bickered less about the TV by the end of the week.

 

They still had fights that consisted of, “Change this shit,” to, “Holy fucking shit, I am not watching this shit again!” However, by the end of that week once one complained the other just did as they were told.

 

 

On the night of their first week they both couldn’t fall asleep.

 

“You still up?” Mickey asked.

 

“Yeah,” Ian said. He could see the shadow of Mickey’s face in the moonlight that was coming in through their shitty blinds.

 

“I’m scared,” Mickey admitted.

 

“About what?” Ian asked.

 

“A lot,” Mickey said, “About this fucking happening again, about my dad finding out I’m gay, about getting out of here just for my dad to put me right back in…”

 

“I can’t tell you to not be scared but what I can tell you is that you know where I live if you need anything… I won’t let him hurt you, Mick,” Ian said in all honesty. 

 

“You’d do that for me?” Mickey asked shyly.

 

“Of course I would. I know we’ve been fighting about the TV but that’s just for fun, I mean, what the fuck else are we gonna do?” Ian laughed, “I like you. I don’t want to see you this hurt ever again…”

 

Mickey was silent for a long moment before saying, “Thanks.”

 

Ian smiled even though he was sure Mickey couldn’t see him. 

 

A few more minutes passed in silence and Mickey said, “Still awake?”

 

“Mmm?” Ian mumbled.

 

“I like you too,” Mickey said softly but Ian heard him. “Stop smiling like the fucking joker, it’s creepy as shit, man.”

 

Ian laughed and said, “Fuck you.” 

 

“Can’t till I’m all healed up,” Mickey smirked, from what Ian could see.

 

“I wouldn’t want to fuck up those stitches,” Ian said.

 

“Definitely not,” Mickey said.

 

Ian chuckled, “Night, Mick.”

 

“Night, Ian,” Mickey said back.

 

 

 

It was day 10 and they’ve been a lot more flirty with each other since their talk the other night. 

 

Fiona came by after dinner and saw them laughing and teasing each other. “Look who became friends,” She said entering the room.

 

“Hey, Fi,” Ian said with a grin on his face.

 

“How are you?” Fiona asked.

 

“Great,” Ian laughed, “Oh, my ankles okay too. Can walk a bit more on it, still hurts a bit but the meds help.”

 

“That’s good,” Fiona said, “Just a few more days and you can come home.”

 

Ian smiled at her and she sat on the chair next to his bed. “What were you two laughing about?”

 

“These dumbasses,” Mickey said pointing to the TV. They were watching some cop show where they show you their arrests.

 

Fiona sat back and watched the pair who seemed so buddy-buddy now, compared to a few days ago where they were fighting over the TV.

 

 

 

That night when the boys were about to fall asleep Ian got up from the bed and went over to Mickey’s bed.

 

“The fuck are you doing?” Mickey asked looking up at him.

 

“Getting in, whatdya think?” Ian said before climbing into Mickey’s bed carefully as to not bump into his ribs or hurt his own ankle.

 

“Jesus, Ian, you take up so much room,” Mickey said moving a bit so they both had some room on the single bed.

 

“C’mere,” Ian moved his arm to put it underneath Mickey’s head. Mickey lay his head on Ian’s chest and scooted a bit closer to him. 

 

Ian ran his fingers through Mickey’s hair lightly, and stroked his head. 

 

“Thanks,” Mickey whispered.

 

“For what?” Ian whispered back.

 

“For being here,” Mickey whispered.

 

“For breaking my ankle in four spots?” Ian laughed.

 

“For being the one in here with me,” Mickey clarified.

 

Ian smiled and kissed the top of Mickey’s head softly. Mickey looked up at Ian without lifting his head. They looked into each others eyes for a bit before Ian leaned down and pressed his lips softly to Mickey’s. When they parted, Mickey looked at Ian before lifting his head a bit to press his lips on Ian’s more firmly than before. Ian kissed him with as much force as he could without hurting him. Mickey brought his hand up to cup Ian’s jaw and stroke his skin softly as they kissed.

 

They parted and Mickey put his head back down on Ian’s chest and left his hand on Ian’s abs, palm flat. Ian put his hand over Mickey’s, and he turned his hand around so that Ian could intertwine their fingers together.

 

Ian kissed the top of Mickey’s head again before they drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

 

 

 

The next couple nights were the same until Ian was released a day early. Mickey still had two more days. When Ian was leaving he asked Mickey if he wanted him to come by the next day, Mickey told him no, that he’d see him soon. 

 

 

Those two days were hell for Ian but when it was the day that Mickey was to be released he went to the hospital but found that he had already been released.

 

Ian was disappointed to say the least but went about his day as he did the past two days he was back in the real world.

 

That night when Ian got home from work at the Kash n Grab, where he started working again a few weeks ago, he saw Mickey sitting at his kitchen table.

 

“Hey,” Ian said entering the room.

 

“Hey,” Mickey said back, “Can we talk?”

 

“Yeah, outside?” Ian asked. Mickey nodded and followed him out back. They sat on the first step. 

 

“How are you?” Ian asked after a few moments of silence.

 

“Fine,” Mickey said, “Ribs still hurt like a bitch.”

 

“I went to the hospital today but you were already released,” Ian said.

 

“Left first thing in the morning,” Mickey said. “I wanted to get home early enough that my dad was still asleep so I can get some stuff and leave.”

 

Ian looked at him in shock, “Wait, what? You left?”

 

“Yeah,” Mickey said with a small smile, “Was kinda hoping I could stay with you. Just for a bit.”

 

Ian grinned at him, “You can stay as long as you want, Mick.”

 

Mickey couldn’t help but smile back, more fully. He looked into Ian’s green eyes that have kept him company in those two weeks at the hospital. He reached up and kissed him deeply on the lips. Ian grabbed onto the back of Mickey’s neck drawing him in closer. He parted his lips allowing Mickey’s tongue in. 

 

They parted, a little breathless. Ian stroked the side of Mickey’s head, “I’m glad you’re here.”

 

“Me too,” Mickey said putting his hand over Ian’s. 

**Author's Note:**

> Make my day, leave me kudos and comments :)  
> Mwaaa <3
> 
> Follow me on tumblr: http://bellafarella.tumblr.com/
> 
> Look for updates on: 'The Good Life', my tumblr prompt series, and this new series.  
> Will let you know when I am taking prompts again :D


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